


Five times Howard doesn’t know his best friend and one time he does

by lubilu17



Series: Boosh universe [1]
Category: The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, and i love them, both Howard and Vince are angels, genderfluid Vince, lads it’s a sad one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 06:18:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14928798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lubilu17/pseuds/lubilu17
Summary: Howard doesn’t know Vince. Not at all. Of course he knows the trivial information. He knows Vince’s favourite colour (bright pink, or magenta as Vince would always correct him). He knew Vince’s favourite song (Prince Charming by Adam and the Ants). He knew Vince’s favourite foods (strawberry laces and Parma Violets). He could endlessly list Vince’s favourite shops. But for the life of him, Howard couldn’t tell you anything about Vince that was of use for anybody.OrFive times Howard didn’t know things about his best friend and the one time he does.





	Five times Howard doesn’t know his best friend and one time he does

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bolts_of_nice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bolts_of_nice/gifts).



Howard doesn’t know Vince. Not at all. Of course he knows the trivial information. He knows Vince’s favourite colour (bright pink, or magenta as Vince would always correct him). He knew Vince’s favourite song (Prince Charming by Adam and the Ants). He knew Vince’s favourite foods (strawberry laces and Parma Violets). He could endlessly list Vince’s favourite shops. But for the life of him, Howard couldn’t tell you anything about Vince that was of use for anybody. 

He didn’t know the names of Vince’s parents. He didn’t know where the deep scars on Vince’s body were from. He didn’t know why there was a pillbox barely hidden under a pile of scarves under Vince’s bed that Howard had found once when looking for some socks. 

He wants to know these things about Vince. He wants to know why Vince feels it necessary to hide in set of pills from Howard when sat on the kitchen counter is another sticker covered pillbox containing more of Vince’s pills. He wants to know why when telling stories about his childhood Vince always skipped until he was in his late teens. He wants to know why Vince is keeping it all from him, why his friend knows almost everything there is to know about him yet Howard wouldn’t be able to tell anyone anything of interest about Vince. 

He learns a big part of Vince’s history one Tuesday morning in March.

There’s a loud crash from Vince’s room just as Howard is spreading the Nutella onto Vince’s toast. The crash is promptly followed by a series of colourful curses on Vince’s behalf and a second bang, which to Howard almost sounds as if Vince has collapsed onto the floor of his bedroom. It’s this that makes Howard almost run to Vince’s bedroom door, as he sticks his head around the door to ask whether or not Vince is okay the words stick in his throat.

Vince is knelt on the wooden floor, head bowed, shoulders shaking in silent tears, a piece of paper in his hands. Scattered around him are more pieces of paper, no they’re not pieces of paper they’re pictures. Mixed into these pictures are drawings, drawings that look like they were done by a small child given the shakiness of the lines. There’s letters as well, letters that Howard can tell have been written by Vince if the glittery gel pen ink was any indication. 

Vince doesn’t look up at Howard as he makes his way across the room to Vince, he doesn’t even acknowledge the other man until Howard wraps his fingers around Vince’s wrist, careful to avoid a particularly nasty scar, and pries the photograph out of Vince’s fingers. The photo is of a family, a mum, a dad and a child. Even from just briefly looking at the photo he can tell that the small boy is Vince, the wild mop of hair even at such a young age giving him away. The woman’s hair is the same colour as Vince’s was back at the Zooniverse, her smile the same as Vince’s even now. The man isn’t smiling, his hand is gripping the shoulder of his son so tightly Howard can see where his knuckles paled. He has the same nose as Vince a voice tells him in the back of his mind before he notices something else on the photo.

There’s bruises on the woman and Vince, they’re faded but against Vince’s milky skin they could almost be neon. Around the woman’s neck is a necklace of purple and yellow, around her wrist a bracelet of blue and green. Vince’s lip is split slightly and there’s an uneasiness in his eyes that make Howard flinch backwards. 

Vince is looking at him, not in the photo but in real life, with eyes brimming with tears. Deep blue eyes that Howard is so accustomed to seeing filled with excitement and joy are filled with despair and hopelessness. There’s a vulnerability to Vince that Howard’s never seen before, a vulnerability that makes Howard want to protect Vince from anything and everything that dares to attempt to hurt him. But all he can do is give Vince a shaky smile.

“What happened to them?”

Howard’s voices is low and soft in the quiet but even then Vince startles. He takes a deep breath before beginning to talk, his tone matching Howard’s.

“In a far away kingdom known as Hackney, there once was a beautiful princess and her fairytale prince. Except her fairytale prince wasn’t like anybody else’s fairytale prince, her prince could turn into the evil dragon. And he did turn into the evil dragon, at night when no one else was around to see the dragons fire burn. You see he was a special kind of dragon, a dragon that needed lighter fluid to be able to breath fire throughout the castle. Whilst other dragons of his kind often chose to just use a lighter or a match to ignite their flames, this dragon chose alcohol. The aftermath of his flames would smell like whiskey and spiced rum. No one entered the castle to save the princess because everyone believed that the dragon was just the fairytale prince. Everyone believed she was safe with him.

“Until one day a small knight with a crown made of crows feathers came to rescue the princess. The knight fought tooth and nail against the dragon, getting burnt by his flames everytime he got too close to the princess. Heroically, the knight kept fighting for the princess even when he got burnt, he’d have done anything to make sure she was safe. 

“But it was too late. The knight got home from school too late one day and found that the prince had turned into the dragon earlier in the day than he usually did. The knight found the princess covered in burns from the dragons breath, the air around them smelt like a tavern from the village nearby, the dragon's tail had knocked over tables and upturned sofa cushions. The knight did the only thing he could do, he called his other knight friends and waited for the, to finally catch the dragon while he stayed and protected the princesses body from anymore harm. All the knight knows of the dragon was that he was locked up in a tower far away from the princess and the knight so he could no longer hurt them.”

Towards the end of his story Vince’s voice began to waiver and his breath began to hitch in his throat. Howard, doing the only thing he felt he can do leant forwards and wrapped his arms around Vince’s shoulders letting the younger man shuffle until his knees were against Howard’s chest and his face was hidden in the crook of Howard’s neck. Vince was now openly sobbing into Howard’s neck, and all Howard could do was hold him.

Maybe Howard didn’t want to know everything about Vince, maybe there was a good reason why Vince had never told him.


End file.
